Absences filled
by olansamuelle
Summary: Quintus suggests his wife to visit her brother in Rome to forget another fail to conceive. Ever the loving wife, she makes the most of the journey. Lucretia/Batiatus, Lucretia/Ilithyia, Naevia, Mira.


**Title**: _Absences filled_

**Summary**: Quintus suggests his wife to visit her brother in Rome to forget another failure to conceive. Ever the loving wife, she makes the most of the journey.

**Pairings**: Lucretia/Batiatus; Lucretia/Ilithyia.

**Characters**: Lucretia, Batiatus, Ilithyia, Naevia, Mira, Marius (Lucretia's brother).

**Disclaimer**: not mine.

**Notes**: written for the femmeslash 10,000 lillies battle'10. Prompt: _Lucretia visits a brother in Rome_. This is an edited version, that among a few improvements, includes a couple of new scenes.

**Rating**: M

_**OOOO**_

_**Capua. House of Batiatus**_

Blood. Again.

Sighing and defeated, Lucretia closed her eyes and wondered what had she done to deserve such misfortune, as Juno had resolved to pour a new handful of salt in her old wound, open sore branding her with sadness and shame since the very moment her married status set that door open for her to cross, as any Roman would expect her to do, herself included. Damned her. All these years she had watched other women bearing, and they made it look so simple… _No. Spare your mind from such thoughts, Lucretia._ She chastised herself. _Self-pitying will take you nowhere_. And Quintus did not deserve to see his disappointment over another failure widened by her saddened soul.

Years had passed, and she knew her body would soon be too old to hold seed; a barren land. And her will was slowly starting to drift away, gently pushed by a bitter invisible hand. Fortune was not beside her.

She had wanted to rip her gown when a familiar dull pain below brought her out of her dreams. Grimly, she had looked down to find an offending crimson stain telling her with painful regularity that once again, she was not with child. A knot in her stomach travelled up her conscience, for it must have been her fault that Juno had deafened her ears to her plea. Crixus. She had let herself be weak with a simple slave and had passed the first chance the goddess had given her to conceive. For a moment she cursed the fucking Gaul and the day Fortune decided he would fight Theokoles. The legend that preceded the horrific and savage beast had shrunk Crixus' cock to the point of cowardice. And she had been stupid enough to let him run away with it. Then, when coin of her own in hand she had been able to have the priestess come a second time, the Goddess of fertility had turned her head and walked away. What else had she expected?

Leaving Quintus asleep, she'd spared a grim smile for her beloved husband, and silently walked to the small altar, kneeling and bowing her head in shame for the offense on the deity and raising a plea for forgiveness and the promise not to fail her again.

_**OOO**_

Naevia had risen before the sun. Those first moments of the day, were hers to spend however she wished as long as she was ready and prepared to serve Domina when she awoke. Naevia's life was simple: if she wanted time to herself, she only had to give up sleep.

If not sleeping meant she had a moment of her own to fill her mind with Crixus, to close her eyes and feel his gentle touch, hear his voice whispering and smell his rich scent, she wished she could live awake forever, for those were the moments in which she was as happy as she knew she could ever reach to be.

But all good moments came to an end, and noticing the first lights of the morning saluting the sky, Naevia carefully tucked the thoughts in the back of her mind and rose to ready herself.

Rising before the rest of the service, she put the blue cloth on and sat on the border of the small pool they used to wash, using the reflection the water provided her with to meticulously comb her hair. Domina had her personal slaves learn many things, and personal hygiene always came first and foremost, especially for Domina's first. Her. Sparing a moment to remember Melitta, she carefully arranged the dark strands of hair. _Appearance, daughter_, her mother had said._ Us slaves are a mirror of our master's wealth. Always care how you look and soon you will find yourself above this filth, right by your Domina's side. It is a privilege few achieve, Naevia_. Her mother had left out a few details.

Making sure she would meet Domina's approval, Naevia quickly left her chamber and entered her room. Her heart stilled when she didn't see her in bed. Was she late? Reflex made her check the sky, and a small frown of confusion intended to reach her face, quickly vanishing under a worse certainty, that of Domina awake and her slave not by her side.

Swallowing, Naevia tried to figure out where could Domina be, and in the silence of the room, her question was answered in the form of whispers. Turning her head in such direction, she saw the silhouette kneeling, head between folded arms with fingers interlaced in prayer. A quick, furtive glance at he fabric of her gown below her waist revealed the reason that probably stirred Domina from her dreams. And not with good news.

Naevia chastised herself, for she should have known. Every four weeks Domina's mood was somber during a few days. Naevia had figured the reason out soon enough, and in order to soothe her pains, and prevent any outburst, she became even more solicitous, if that were possible, to try and ease Domina's well-being as much as securing her own.

Without wasting time in more thoughts, Naevia moved quickly and sent two slaves to prepare Domina's bath before fetching a clean and dry gown, hoping Domina's prayer would give her time to complete the task. In doing it she also realized there was space for pity. Her heart, revived by Crixus, was wild in her breast, but Naevia reminded herself a valuable lesson, taught by Melitta, who had learned it from experience. Never show emotions before your masters, and think hard before doing so with slaves. Even inside the walls and on the same social ground, slaves were not equal. If only she could be as good as Mira in doing so…

Clearing her mind again, the slave returned to her place near her mistress and patiently waited for her to finish her prayer.

_**OOO**_

She ended her plea to the Goddess and slowly stood up. Naevia was already there, waiting for her.

"Domina, a bath is ready for you."

Lucretia walked to the pool, her body aching for the feel of water over her skin. Now they had plenty of water she cared not about staining it with blood. During those moons of misery and dry skies, she would not take baths, only wash herself with the help of Naevia and a wet cloth for her groin.

Quintus was still asleep, and as soon as Naevia had helped her clean and change, she walked to the balcony, dismissing the slave, and stared absentmindedly into nothingness.

She was angry. At herself. At Crixus. At Quintus. Had she not been that religious, she would be cursing the Gods themselves, but the fear of consequences was greater than her own anguish.

Her thoughts were only yet finally removed by two arms embracing her from behind, followed by his face on her back, taking a deep breath as he smelled her scent. Lucretia leaned back into the warmth, closing her eyes in the process.

"The ritual didn't work," he said, his voice gentle, showing it was not a reproach. Never an accusation. Not even a question. Lucretia, grateful that he did not see the tear on her face, managed to nod in silence, guts in knots.

"I am sending note to your brother," said Quintus resolved. "Go visit him, Lucretia, clear your mind of concerns." He saw her turn her face towards him, and Batiatus, having the protest die on her lips, placed a finger on them. "Rest," he added softly. The trace of a tear did not escape his eyes.

"Quintus..."

"I am not having a no for an answer, Lucretia." Batiatus sealed her negative with a kiss. "Go." He smiled. "I should not be the only man in your family to be gifted with your presence."

"Marius is the one who should come visit more often," she idly protested, comfortably resting on her husband's embrace.

"Your brother's guts are not those of a man made for this ludus," he reminded her amused. "Marius is too squeamish. He barely made it through the last games."

She chuckled at the memory. "Crixus cut off arms and legs as if possessed by the Gods that day."

"People asked me if the man turning green at the sight was really your brother."

A red eyebrow raised, amused, at the commentary.

"I swear."

Her snort was the most welcome sound for both to hear at that moment. Lucretia, her back turned to the sands of training, focused her sight on her husband. "Are you sure you want to be alone for the days to come, Quintus?"

"If that means my wife will be returned to me happy and rested I am willing to miss her for as long as it takes."

A sudden idea crossed her mind. She could still prove useful to her husband after all. "Ilithyia will be there, her husband absent."

Batiatus smiled, knowing of the implications behind. "Would you plan a visit?"

"One she would hardly forget."

_**OOO**_

_**Rome. House of Marius, Lucretia's brother.**_

"Why would Domina bring me with her?" Mira still felt uneasy about her mistress' decision to have her come with her, when she had not only Naevia, but another set of slave girls serving her in the villa. She was there for other duties Dominus saw fit. Never before under Domina's care.

"Domina knows," said simply Naevia in a whisper as they both got their mistress' garment and jewellery ready.

"Has she spoken the reason to you?"

Mira. She had arrived in the ludus one rainy day before the heavens closed all those moons before Spartacus brought it back with the help of Crixus. Silent, cold on the surface but with a beating heart she had learned to be full of passion. A dangerous feeling for a slave to hold, that the woman had set on the new champion. "She does not need to," she said in response to the question.

"Why then?"

"You are with the champion. No other touches him unless Dominus or Domina wish to."

"I don-" she let the thought die on her lips. No need to speak of unwanted truths. "So that makes me special?"

Special? The word seemed distant to Naevia. She guessed she meant not like the rest of the girls. "It makes you the champion's chosen."

"He did not choose me."

"Neither he rejected you. Nor he asked for another. He could."

_If they only knew. Were they so blind not to see where his heart laid?_ "Still, I do not understand."

"By sharing bed with Spartacus, Romans will regard you with interest."

_Me? I am not even beautiful._ "But they-"

_Does not she know she stirs envy in every slave of the villa?_ "Domina will refer to you as such. When she does, bow your head, show gratefulness for the honour bestowed upon you." Naevia looked at her, seeing Domina approach from the side of her eye. "Still your tongue, Domina arrives."

_**OOO**_

Lucretia had never been shy about her body. Nudity was as natural to her as feeding. All men in Capua knew. The fact that she many times chose to wear revealing fabrics, hinting all her attributes to any willing eyes to see, was a deliberate action. She wore them with the same pride as she openly showed her love for her husband. She was one man's wife. Her exposure did not aim to anything else. Give the food to chained dogs, enough to smell it yet never to taste it.

It gave her power.

Lately, she had found she bore that same effect to one woman.

Lucretia had not evaded it, much the contrary, opportunity opening itself before their eyes. She had promptly welcomed the spoiled daughter of Senator Albinius explore, almost as much as she wanted. Just enough to wet the tongue, but not to quench the thirst.

Over the moons the house of Batiatus had closed ties with the younger powerful couple, she had also tightened her grasp on Ilithyia, luring her to a world she had left on the back of her mind ever since Gaia, and taking advantage of the experience gained with her former friend. Lucretia would not let her little prey leave, not until they had her husband's patronage secured.

As she let Naevia and Mira help with her clothes, her brother entered the room.

"I see you still rise with the sun."

"Good habits must not be forsaken, Marius. Father taught me the lesson well."

Marius smiled and approached his sister, kissing her cheek, receiving a very patronizing yet loving smile in return. Lucretia would always treat him like the little brother he was. "Any plans for today? Should I arrange entertainment for you while I'm at the market?"

"It won't be necessary, I am meeting a friend."

_**OOO**_

_**House of Gaius Claudius Glaber**_

Ilithyia's house reflected her social status. Furnished in luxury, filled with servants and bringing only the best wines and food.

As she slowly bit a strawberry, Lucretia welcomed the wine served by one of her slaves, as well as the light-headedness the beverage provided her. The idle chat with Ilithyia was like a fight ending much too soon: both boring and disappointing. Sitting up slowly from the reclining position she had been on, Lucretia took the first rope provided by her host, and took command on the conversation.

Ilithyia had complained about her husband's absence.

"Will he come soon?," she asked.

"I wouldn't know. Those barbarians rule his time away from me, taking hold of him," she said disgusted.

A smirk hardly escaped Lucretia's lips. "And how do you fill your needs?"

The sudden cough by a sip of wine gone to the wrong conduct forced Lucretia to consciously hold her need to laugh. Instead, she used the turn of events and rapidly sat by Ilithyia's side, gently rubbing her back until the coughing stopped.

Lucretia knew Ilithyia would hate her patronizing and sympathetic smile at such time. She made sure the younger woman saw it on her face. "Better now?"

"I-"

"I did not mean you taking another man, Ilithyia," said Lucretia in a soothing tone as she gently placed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. The bemused expression on Glaber's wife was a sight Lucretia made sure to keep in her mind as a memory. "Choose a slave girl."

"A slave girl?," she almost exclaimed. "For what?"

"For release," she said faking surprise at Ilithyia's naiveness on certain lands. "You wouldn't like to stain your own hands, now, would you?"

Silence. And then, shyly, a quiet question. "How?"

A triumph gained through experience was followed by the thought of a husband proud. "Lay down."

Swallowing, Ilithyia obeyed, never letting go of the blue eyes leaning on her. She only had time to utter an order to the slaves before her mind was lost in the sensations starting to fill her body. "Out."

Then her legs were slightly parted from each other.

"Order your slave to lighten your clothes. She must have access to reach."

Slowly, a hand made its way down, taking its time in caressing the inside of her thighs, teasingly pausing until it reached her groin.

It was hard to breathe.

"There is no need to rush."

The voice came low, soothing, almost a whisper. The warm sensation of her fingers, rubbing folds of skin, triggering all kinds of feelings Ilithyia never thought she could experience with another woman.

Truth was, this was not just another woman.

"Tell your slave how do you want it done."

She thrust one finger inside.

"And make her obey."

Then the other one.

Ilithyia's eyes opened wide, her breath quickened and her hands pressed Lucretia's, lost in the torturing pleasure she never wished to end. Wishing only for more. She could not help but moan.

"To continue until her Domina is done."

Climax drew a cry, ending in a sharp exhale.

Lucretia pulled her fingers out and her hand away, calmly cleaning it with Ilithyia's own garment.

"Now you know how to teach a slave."

**Fin.**


End file.
